


Admiration

by hutchabelle



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-14 23:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13600638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: A 14 part Valentine's Day Everlark story. Originally written for everlarkvalentinesgifts on tumblr.





	1. Secret Admirer

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Secret Admirer

 

“No, Mom.” I sputter as I exit the elevator. “No. No. No, I don’t want to meet your neighbor’s daughter’s friend. No, I don’t want to just in case I die alone. No.”

 

I wave to Gale, my co-worker, and stomp to my desk. “No, Mom. I’m not worried about my biological clock.”

 

“You should be,” Gale hisses as he sets a cup of coffee on my desk and winks at me.

 

I stick out my tongue and roll my eyes. “I’m hanging up now, Mom. Yes. Thanks for being overbearing and overprotective. I love you too.”

 

“Wow. It’s so early,” he teases as I drop the phone on my desk and reach gratefully for the cup he pushes toward me. “You’d think she’d wait until later in the day to make sure you feel like a failure.”

 

“Never too early for moms to be passive-aggressive.”

 

“Cheers to that,” he laughs as he tips his drink toward me. “Plans this weekend?”

 

“No,” I answer with a shake of my head. “I can’t do the social thing after the week I’ve had.”

 

“You’ve had? I think we all had that, Catnip.”

 

“That’s true, I guess. Please don’t make me care.”

 

“I would never,” Gale gasps in mock horror. “The last thing I’d ever want to do is let you know that I’m spending the weekend with my closest male friends...all of whom are single, employed, non-felons, and interested in many of the same things we are.”

 

“Oh, dammit.”

 

He suppresses a smirk. “I know. I’m the worst.”

 

“You are. You are absolutely the worst.”

 

“I know. So are my friends. Can’t stand any of them.”

 

I sigh so heavily, I’m afraid I might have collapsed one of my lungs.

 

“Which of your glorious friends are going to be there? And what is it you’re planning?”

 

“That’s more like it,” he chortles and stands to return to his desk. “Boggs, Haymitch, Finnick, Peeta, and Beetee. All your faves. Basketball and then we’re doing some volunteer work. I’ll see you at noon. Bring beer.”

 

“Damn you, Gale.”

 

“You’re welcome. Also, you have flowers at reception.”

 

My head snaps up. “What?”

 

“Someone has a secret admirer. Go get them.”

 

“No.”

 

“See for yourself.”

 

I stumble down the hall and find Annie, the sweetheart who helps keep our office running. She chirps a greeting and passes a bouquet to me.

 

“Who sent them?”

 

Annie shrugs and tucks a strand of copper hair behind her left ear. “No idea, but the card is handwritten. You’re a lucky girl, Katniss.”

 

I make it all the way back to my desk before I open the envelope, and my mouth drops open.


	2. Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cards

 

“Quitting time, Catnip.”

 

“Praise Jesus,” I mutter under my breath and close the file that’s been the focus of much of my afternoon. I shut down my computer and sigh.

 

“Plans tonight?”

 

“Nothing exciting,” I admit. “Hot date with my DVR and my pizza delivery guy.”

 

“I think we need to change that.”

 

“Gale… No. I’m tired. It’s Friday. I need to sleep.”

 

“Or….” I shoot him a withering look, but he’s not dissuaded in the least. “I’ll walk you home so you can change, but then we’re heading to my place. Poker tonight.”

 

I try not to be excited, but he’s reminded me of one of my weaknesses. I really, really, really love card games. I also really love card games that also allow me to gamble. I’m not much of a gamble-with-life-events type of person, but somehow I turn into a raving addict when I’m throwing away money.

 

“You are the devil.”

 

He grins and pulls me up from my chair. “I’ve been told that before. Tall, dark, and handsome. I’ll corrupt you for weeks.”

 

“You need a foil. Who’s the angel?”

 

“Short, fair, and ugly? Peeta fits the bill.”

 

I snort and punch the elevator button. “Peeta’s not ugly. He’s very attractive in his own way.”

 

“What way is that?”

 

“He’s got very wide shoulders. He can hold his own.”

 

“It’s not his fault he’s best friend with me and Finnick. He pales in comparison—pun intended—to us.”

 

“Brutal. You’re brutal.”

 

“Go change your clothes. I’ll wait down here. And if you’re so concerned with Peeta, feel free to flirt with him a little tonight. He’s had a rough go of it since his girlfriend dumped him.”

 

“Peeta’s single? Again?” I purse my lips and think for a few minutes. “Dude has bad luck with girls.”

 

“He does, and he’s always had a little bit of a soft spot for you. You should make his night tonight.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” I toss over my shoulder as I disappear into my building. I throw my stuff down, slip into some jeans and a comfortable hoodie, and rush back to Gale. “Let’s go. I’ve got some cards to play and some flirting to do.”

 

Peeta arrives only a few minutes after we reach Gale’s place. He’s dressed in a muted blue sweater that makes his eyes sparkle in a way I’ve never noticed. He tosses me a bashful smile and moved past me into the kitchen before I can say a word. He manages to avoid being alone with me for most of the night, but he’s pleasant and responsive throughout the poker game.

 

I study him as we play, trying to uncover his tells, but instead I find myself distracted by his long, tapered fingers and bemused expression. He teases Finnick and Gale and smiles at me occasionally. He’s not very good at hiding his delight when he gets a good hand, and he folds much too often when he should stay in. He sips on his beer instead of guzzling it, and he’s the most sober of us all by the time we decide to call it a night.

 

Finnick takes off quickly, but Peeta hangs back while I say goodbye to Gale. When I turn to bid him farewell, Peeta asks, “You’re not walking home, are you?”

 

“It’s only a few blocks,” I slur and wipe a hand over my mouth to hide the foolish grin stretching across my face.

 

“It’s dark, and you’re alone.”

 

“I don’t have to be,” I tease and immediately regret it. I have no intention of leading him on, but that just came out before I could stop it.

 

“Can I drop you off? I’ve got my car tonight. Had to come in from a job further out than normal.”

 

I shrug, and he motions me toward his vehicle, a bright red sports car that doesn’t fit with any aspect of his personality I’ve ever seen.

 

“Nice ride,” I observe and pet the leather seats.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“I live on the corner of—”

 

“I know where you live.” He shifts into reverse, and I nod my head.

 

He pulls up to my building only a few minutes later, and I realize we haven’t spoken a word to each other since we left Gale’s. I don’t know what else to say to him, but something tugs at my conscience. Peeta’s such a good guy, and he really does deserve better than getting dumped all the time by women who don’t appreciate him.

 

“I’d invite you up, but…”

 

He chuckles softly but shrugs and grips the steering wheel. “You don’t have to do that.”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Pretend you’re interested in me. I just gave you a ride home. This wasn’t a date.”

 

“Oh…”

 

I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. Unable to figure out what to say, I thank him quietly and exit his car. He waits politely until I enter the building and the door closes behind me before he leaves.

 

It doesn’t take long for me to pass out once I’m in my apartment. It’s been a long week, and I drank more than I normally would on a Friday night. Just before I fall asleep, I send Gale a text.

 

_Peeta’s single again, huh?_

 

I don’t wait for him to reply, but I’m strangely happy to wake the next morning to an answer.

 

_Very single. See you at noon for the game._


	3. Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hearts

 

“Hey! I’m here!” I call as I enter Gale’s house. I can hear the guys in the backroom, hooting and yelling at the TV.

 

“Get back here, Catnip!” Gale shouts, but I head into the kitchen to stash the beer I brought in the fridge instead.

 

“Katniss! Hi,” Peeta blurts as he stumbles into the room. He’s obviously had a few, and I’m immediately amused at the thought of him day drinking. His cheeks are almost neon pink, and his blue eyes pierce through me.

 

“Hello, Peeta. How’s it going?” He leans on the counter and watches me as I place bottles in the fridge and pull out a cold beer. I smile at him, and he seems mesmerized for a few seconds.

 

“It’s good. My team’s winning.”

 

I saunter over to him and place my hand on his forearm. “That’s good to hear. You deserve a win.”

 

He swallows hard and licks his lips. “I—”

 

“Katniss!” Finnick enters the kitchen and sweeps over to give me a hug. “Good to see you.”

 

Peeta pulls away abruptly, and I shoot Finnick a glare. We communicate silently for a few minutes, but Peeta excuses himself so we can speak freely.

 

“Thanks a lot. I was working.”

 

“On Peeta?” Finnick’s surprise makes me flush slightly.

 

“He’s had a rough few weeks.”

 

“And you’re planning to make it better for him? That’s…interesting.”

 

“He’s a nice guy.”

 

“He’s been in love with you for years,” Finnick returns. “If you’re going after him, be kind. He doesn’t need another heartbreak from someone he’s admired from afar since he was old enough to know the difference between men and women.”

 

“What are you talking about?” I hiss as he turns to rejoin the rest of the guys.

 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Katniss is here, y’all!”

 

Haymitch, Boggs, and Beetee rise to greet me with hugs and chaste kisses on my cheek. Gale waves toward the bowl of guacamole but doesn’t bother getting up. After all, I just saw him the night before.

 

We spend the rest of the afternoon flipping among basketball games, teasing each other about our respective teams, and bantering the way we always do. I’ve consumed more than I should have when I suddenly blurt, “I forgot to tell everybody. I got flowers on Thursday.”

 

The guys respond in varying ways. Gale already knew since we work together, but Finnick hoots with laughter. I try not to take it personally when Peeta slips into the kitchen to refill the snacks.

 

“Someone sent you flowers, sweetheart?” Haymitch asks, and I prickle with indignation.

 

“Is that so hard to believe?”

 

“Who sent them?” Gale asks. “We haven’t had that conversation. How could I have forgotten?”

 

“Memory’s slipping,” Boggs teases as he elbows Gale in the ribs. “You’re getting old.”

 

“Not as old as you,” Gale jokes, and all eyes turn to me. I cough, suddenly uncomfortable about the attention from my friends.

 

“I’m not really sure,” I admit. “It was signed by a secret admirer.”

 

“Holy shit,” Finnick breathes. “You have a secret admirer? Who would be crazy enough to crush on our girl?”

 

My feelings are undeniably hurt, but he winks at me to show he’s not serious. Peeta reappears suddenly and punches Finnick on the arm. We return our focus to the game, but not before I notice Peeta run his fingers through his hair and slump into his seat. I try not to glance at him throughout the rest of the afternoon, but I can’t keep my eyes off him. Why is he suddenly so appealing?

 

“Weren’t we supposed to be doing something useful tonight?” Beetee slurs after he downs the rest of his beer. We’ve watched three games at this point, and I’m feeling fairly bloated and tipsy. I shouldn’t have eaten that last piece of pizza.

 

“We’re stuffing hearts,” Gale drawls, and I shake my head.

 

“We’re what? That doesn’t even make any sense.”

 

Gale flips to another game and then heads down the hall. He returns in a few minutes with a box of heart-shaped cards that are fundraisers for the American Heart Association, the charity in which his mom is active.

 

“My mom asked me to stuff the envelopes and send these out.”

 

Groans erupt around the table, and Peeta rises suddently. “I’ll do it. I need to head home anyway. I’ve got some things to do tonight still.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” I sputter and recoil at the look he throws me. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

 

He shrugs, and I follow him as the other guys shout catcalls at our backs.

 

“You didn’t have to leave,” Peeta says as he crosses to his car. I still think it’s odd it’s so shiny. It just doesn’t seem like him.

 

“I don’t mind.”

 

“Did you drive?” He motions to the passenger side when I shake my head, and I settle in next to him.

 

“I’ve never been to your place.”

 

“It’s nothing special,” he replies, but it’s pretty clear he’s lying when we pull up to his building. It’s one of the nicest in Panem.

 

“You live in the Capitol?”

 

“Yeah. It’s a long story.”

 

I gasp when he ushers me into his apartment. It’s gorgeous, and the decorating choices Peeta’s made only highlight the quality construction and high-end finishes the builders used.

 

“This is beautiful.”

 

“Thank you.” His response is kind but clipped, and he doesn’t offer more as he heaves the box onto the counter. He works quickly, and I move over to join him.

 

“It’s nice of you to do this.”

 

“Well, that’s me. Peeta Mellark. Mr. Nice Guy.”

 

“You don’t sound thrilled about that.”

 

“Why should I be thrilled?”

 

“People like nice guys,” I argue.

 

“Women don’t.”

 

“Of course we do.”

 

“Yeah, my experiences clearly indicate you’re right.”

 

“Peeta—”

 

“Can we just do this, please?” he interrupts. “I have more work to complete before I can go to sleep, and I still need to get you home safely.”

 

I snap my mouth shut and stuff paper hearts into envelopes. Peeta slaps address labels and stamps on them, and we’re done before I know it.

 

“Thanks for your help,” he says softly. “I’ll take you home.”

 

“You know what? I’ll get my own ride. Wouldn’t want to take advantage of you.”

 

“Katniss, I—”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” I snap, and I’m out the door before he can stop me.

 

I hail a cab and am home before I’m calm. Maybe Peeta’s a nice guy, but that doesn’t make my heart hurt any less.


	4. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Flowers

 

“Why aren’t you coming over?” Gale asks for the fifteenth time, and I resist the urge to pull out my hair by the roots.

 

“I know it’s the Super Bowl, but I really need a night at home before the work week starts again,” I explain patiently. “I saw you Friday and last night. You can survive one without me.”

 

“Peeta’s not coming either,” Gale scoffs. “Not going to be much of a party without two of my closest friends.”

 

“Maybe Peeta needs a night by himself too. He was grouchy as hell after we left your place.”

 

“He needs to get laid.”

 

I snort and say goodbye. I don’t want to think about Peeta naked, especially since my drought is going strong at several months. Of course, all I can think about as I tidy my apartment is how muscular he is and the pink tint of his skin as it disappears under his collar. I haven’t seen him without a shirt for a while—not since the last time we all went swimming together, and he had a girl draped over him most of the time that afternoon. It wasn’t exactly kosher to leer at him when he was chatting up another woman.

 

I switch on the TV and move to the kitchen so I can open some snacks for the big game. I’m sure I’d have fun at Gale’s, but sometimes a girl just needs a night alone. That’s what I’m thinking when my doorbell rings, and I curse like a sailor. I groan when I realize it’s Peeta on the other side. The last thing I want to do is deal with his moodiness tonight. With a suppressed grunt of frustration, I pull away from the peephole and unlock the door. Peeta stands there, clearly uncomfortable, and I bark at him.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“H-hi, Katniss,” he stammers. “I just wanted to apologize for last night. I was…”

 

“Kind of a dick.”

 

He gulps and hangs his head. His shoulders slump slightly as he admits, “I know. I was in a pretty bad mood, but still.”

 

“Still doesn’t justify taking it out on me.”

 

He raises his tortured eyes to mine, and I try really hard to stay mad at him.

 

“At least let me give you these,” he pleads and pulls a small bunch of flowers from behind his back. They’re orchids, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

 

I can’t speak for a few seconds, but I can see the truth in his eyes. He brought these to me as more than just an apology. They’re also an admission.

 

“You’re my secret admirer,” I gulp.

 

“I am,” he confirms quietly, his face miserable and flushed bright red.

 

“Come in,” I whisper, barely able to comprehend that one of the guys I’ve hung out with for years just admitted to admiring me.

 

He enters my place and stands awkwardly until I motion to the couch. He settles into it, but it’s clear he’s incredibly uncomfortable. I turn down the volume to the pre-game show and try to regain my composure by pouring more chips into a bowl. When I feel like I can breathe properly again, I balance the dishes on my arm and place them in front of him on the coffee table.

 

“Might as well watch the game together. Gale already told me you weren’t going to his place tonight.”

 

“You don’t have to… I mean, I can leave if you’d rather be alone.”

 

“Don’t you think we should probably talk this through?”

 

“We could,” he says hesitantly. “We definitely could.”

 

“Or?” I ask, my eyebrows raised. He’s up to something.

 

“Or we could avoid the topic, enjoy the game, and then you can let me take you to dinner tomorrow as a formal apology for being an asshole.” He looks so hopeful, I don’t have the heart to say no.

 

“Fine,” I sigh, “but you owe me an explanation.”

 

He smiles so widely, I’m blinded. He’s always had an amazing smile, and it makes my pulse race. With my consent acquired, he relaxes into the cushions and turns his attention to the game. What follows is one of the most pleasurable nights of my life.

 

Peeta’s funny. In fact, he’s really, really funny. He’s also smart, articulate, and completely adorable when he’s analyzing both football and the ads that come on during commercial breaks. I’ve seen this side of him before, but I’ve never had all his attention turned on me at once. Usually his energy is diffused among our group, but tonight it’s all focused on me. It’s stunning, and I have to excuse myself periodically just to keep my composure.

 

I sneak a text to Gale after halftime to tell him what happened, and he sends back a capital letter and exclamation point laden response that makes me laugh out loud. Thankfully, Peeta doesn’t question it, and I spend the rest of the night attempting to keep a smile from splitting my face thinking about how excited my best friend is that something might be starting between Peeta and me.

 

When the game finally ends, Peeta rises and takes the empty dishes to the kitchen, rinses them, and fills my dishwasher. Waving away my thanks, he walks to the front door and hugs me. When he pulls away, his breath warms my cheek. We freeze for a few seconds, staring at each other before he gropes behind him for the doorknob. He brushes his thumb against my cheek as he backs away.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Pick you up at 6:30?” Not trusting myself to speak, I nod as he pulls the door closed behind him.

 

Four days ago, I hadn’t thought of Peeta as anything more than a friend in a group of great guys. Now, I can’t get him out of my mind. It’s his eyes I imagine as I slip between the sheets, and it’s his smile I conjure as I work out my frustration before falling into a fitful sleep.


	5. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dinner

 

“How does this look?” I ask frantically, and Gale smothers a laugh behind his hand.

 

“Great. Exactly like the last four outfits did,” he drawls and sips his drink loudly through a straw. “You know, it’s usually a girlfriend who gives fashion advice.”

 

“Well, I don’t have any girlfriends, do I?” I snap and immediately regret it. “Sorry.”

 

“You do realize this is Peeta, right? He’s liked you for years. It doesn’t really matter what you wear. He’s seen you looking ugly as hell.”

 

“Gee, thanks.”

 

Gale has enough grace to look contrite. “I didn’t mean it that way, Catnip, and you know it.”

 

“Do I?” I retort. “Since when has a guy bothered to tell me I’m halfway pretty?”

 

He looks at me for several moments, clearly perplexed, and then glances away. “I didn’t think you needed to be told when it’s so obvious,” he mutters, partly under his breath.

 

Distracted, I barely pay attention to him. “This is going to have to do,” I mumble and glance appraisingly at the sweater and skirt I’m wearing. There’s a sharp rap at the door, and I motion for Gale to get ready to leave.

 

I open to door to see Peeta, dressed in gray pants and a forest green sweater. His eyes rake over me and then glance toward Gale. He hides his surprise well, but I see a flash of annoyance in his expression.

 

“You look beautiful,” he says quietly. “Ready to go?”

 

“I am,” I agree and toss over my shoulder at Gale, “Lock up behind you. Don’t drink all my beer.”

 

Peeta ushers me to his car, and I sink into the soft leather. He just grins and makes small talk when I ask him where we’re going, and it’s not long before I realize we’re in front of his apartment building again. When I look at him in confusion, he shrugs and says, “I thought maybe I’d cook for you.”

 

I’m delighted because Peeta’s food is amazing. He always brings the best snacks to all the get-togethers, and it doesn’t surprise me in the least that he’s cooking for me on our first date. His apartment smells amazing when we enter, and he clarifies, “Lamb stew.”

 

“That’s my favorite!”

 

“I know,” he confirms with a shy smile.

 

He charms me during dinner. There’s absolutely no other way to describe it. He’s funny and self-effacing as we talk. He listens to everything I say and answers my questions earnestly and honestly.

 

It’s over dessert (whipped chocolate and petit fours) that I finally ask, “So, are you ready to explain Saturday night to me yet?”

 

He ducks his head, his ears burning, and swallows hard before he answers. “There really isn’t much to say. I was a dick. No question about that.”

 

“Is there a particular reason?” I venture. “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

 

“Not really. The short version is that I’ve liked you for forever it feels like, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for months. Years, probably. I kept thinking I’d be able to figure out how, but there’s always been someone else—everyone else—in the way. The group of us are always together. I haven’t been alone with you in ages, so there wasn’t much of a chance to confess how I felt.”

 

“Oh…” My response is completely inadequate, I know, and I can tell he thinks so too.

 

“When you told the others about the flowers… It just seemed like you were amused by them more than touched or intrigued or whatever it is someone’s supposed to feel when they find out about a secret admirer, and I thought… I don’t know. Maybe that you were mocking what I’d done. It just hit me wrong.”

 

He’s clearly embarrassed, and I don’t really know how to ease his discomfiture. I reach across the table to him and brush his fingers with mine.

 

“I love the flowers.”

 

His eyes flicker with interest. “You do?”

 

“I do.”

 

“Want to watch a movie?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

He chooses a drama we’ve both mentioned wanting to see, and we settle into the couch. His hand seeks mine, and our fingers intertwine as we watch the screen. I can’t stop myself from leaning my head on his shoulder.  The credits are rolling when I jerk awake.


	6. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fireworks

 

“Can you just spill it?” Gale snaps as he slams his glass down on the table. “This is the worst lunch break ever.”

 

I shake myself out of a fog and attempt to wipe a goofy smile off my face. I haven’t done much else besides float on clouds since I left Peeta’s apartment last night way past a respectable time. At least it wasn’t a walk of shame.

 

“Peeta’s a really, really, really good kisser,” I sigh, and Gale makes a gagging sound.

 

“I did not need to know that.”

 

“You asked,” I murmur and allow my mind to float back to last night when I woke up from my unexpected nap on Peeta’s shoulder and he leaned down to cover my lips with his.

 

His breath tasted like mint, and his tongue caressed mine until fireworks exploded behind my eyelids…and in other places all over my body, if I’ll admit it. We made out for what seemed like hours, necking like high schoolers and dry humping until I wanted to rip off his clothes. Peeta’s self-control has to be more secure than Fort Knox because he kept it in his pants. As far as I can tell, he’s well-endowed because I have a bruise on my inner thigh where he kept poking me with what felt like iron.

 

“So, he finally kissed you.”

 

“Yeah,” I confirm breathlessly and squirm in my seat. I’m completely restless thinking about the way he felt in my arms as he lay between my legs. I suppress a grin remembering him fumbling under my shirt until his warm palm rubbed against my nipple. I blush over the way I wriggled until the bulge in his pants hit my clit when he thrust against me. I might have yelped like an animal in heat as I ground against him. By the time I left his apartment, I was so wet my underpants were uncomfortably soggy.

 

“Now what?”

 

“Huh?” I ask. “What did you say?”

 

“Oh, never mind,” Gale grouses. “I’m going back to the office.”

 

“Later,” I say as I gulp down the last bite of my sandwich and make my way to the women’s restroom at the back of the restaurant.

 

After I relieve myself, I wash my hands thoroughly and examine myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes are darker than normal—a deep gray rather than a light, smoky color. I can’t stop thinking about Peeta, and that’s why I do something I can’t remember ever allowing myself before. I reach into the zippered pocked in my purse and pull out a small piece of silicone. My sister gave it to me as a joke once, and I’ve carried it with me since then. I flick the switch on, reach under my skirt, and shift my underwear to the side.

 

“Oh, hell,” I groan as the vibrations massage my slit. It feels so good, I can almost block out that one date with Peeta has reduced me to masturbating in a public restroom with a fingertip vibrator.

 

It doesn’t take very long. It’s been a million years since I’ve slept with a guy and I’m already incredibly turned on by thoughts of what happened last night. Only a few minutes pass until I’m shaking as waves ripple through me, and I release a shuddering breath.

 

A knock on the door brings me back to reality, and I rinse off my toy, wipe myself dry, and wash my hands a second time. I slip out of the bathroom with a smile at the woman waiting and head back to work.

 

As soon as I get to my desk, I send Peeta a message asking when we can see each other again. I’m disappointed when he responds with, “Can’t tomorrow. How about the day after?”

 

Suddenly, two days seems like a really long time.


	7. Jewelry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jewelry

 

“Hi, Annie,” I say as I sweep through the reception area and head to my desk.

 

“Hi, Katniss,” Annie murmurs softly and fingers her necklace. She stares into space, and I realize she’s not really paying attention to me.

 

“You okay?” I ask as I stop in front of her and lean on the counter. “You look a little distracted.”

 

She sighs and ducks her head as if she’s embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“I’m…I mean, I guess.”

 

I consider her for a few minutes and bite my lip at the haunted look in her green eyes. She’s lovely with red hair in corkscrew curls and huge, wide eyes. She has a button nose with a slightly upturned tip and has full lips that sag slightly at the corners. It gives her the appearance of being perpetually sad.

 

“That’s a lovely necklace,” I say, and she glances down and smiles shyly.

 

“Thank you. My grandfather gave it to me when I was little,” she explains. “I’ve worn it almost every day of my adult life.”

 

“Is your grandfather still living?” I ask gently and stretch my hand out in sympathy when she shakes her head.

 

“He passed a few months ago, and…” Her voice trails off, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

“One of his greatest wishes was to see me married before he died. He wanted to make sure I was happy, and I feel so guilty for letting him down.”

 

“Oh, Annie,” I murmur. “That’s a huge burden to bear.”

 

“Yeah.” We’re silent for a few moments before she shakes herself and smiles at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it at all.”

 

“No, really. You’re heading for your desk; I’m having an emotional breakdown.”

 

“Can I be honest with you?” I ask her and lean in to mock whisper, “I’m not exactly the person people tend to confide in—especially females. It’s kind of nice to be able to be there for somebody.”

 

Annie blushes furiously and swallows hard. “Well, I appreciate it.”

 

“Maybe we can hang out sometime? You know, outside of work.”

 

“I’d really like that,” she replies, and I give her another smile before I head back to my desk.

 

I’m almost there when I swerve and stop by Gale’s desk. We haven’t talked since we parted ways at lunch yesterday, but I’m positive he’ll be up for talking to me about something so important—even if he doesn’t want to hear about me making out with Peeta.

 

“Gale, I have a question.”

 

“Hey, Catnip. What’s up?” he asks without taking his eyes off his computer screen.

 

“What do you think of Annie?”

 

“Annie?” he asks with a wrinkled brow as he continues to enter figures into a spreadsheet.

 

“Pay attention,” I snap, and he finally turns to face me. “Annie Cresta. Red hair, green eyes, receptionist. Sits out there by herself and answers phones?”

 

“I, uh, don’t really think about her.”

 

“No, I mean, what do you think about her for Finnick?”

 

“Ohhhhhhhh…”


	8. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The Proposal

 

The doorbell rings, and I rush through my apartment to answer the door. Peeta’s standing in the hallway with a wide smile on his face, and I stand with a goofy grin frozen on mine.

 

“Hey,” Peeta says, and I step into his arms for a hug.

 

“Hi,” I breathe into his chest. “How are you?”

 

“Good,” he mumbles back. “Really, really good.”

 

He steps inside, closes the door behind him, and kisses me. I’ll admit I go a little weak in the knees when his lips touch mine. It’s only been a couple of days since I last saw him, but I’ve missed him.

 

I ignore the niggling feeling of doubt and usher him into the living room. My apartment isn’t nearly as nice as his, and I try not to be self-conscious about the fact that there are no high-end finishes at my place. My floors are carpeted, not hardwood, and my kitchen is nothing special. No marble countertops and built-in speakers with Bluetooth to play my favorite songs and set the mood.

 

“So, what is it you have planned for the night?”

 

His cheeks flush just slightly, and I laugh when he gets flustered. He hems and haws for a few seconds and then decides to go with it.

 

“This is going to sound so much cheesier than I thought it would when I was planning things,” he explains. “I was trying to be romantic.”

 

“Romantic. Interesting.”

 

“Not really your thing?” he asks, and nods when I look at him pointedly.

 

“Peeta, we’ve known each other for years. Have you ever known me to be one for roses and candlelight?”

 

“No, but I’ve also never known you to be interested in me either.”

 

I can’t help but chuckle and agree. “That’s true. I really can’t argue with that.”

 

“Exactly. Then we’re going to order pizza and watch a movie. That’s what I’ve got. That’s my big romantic gesture.”

 

“That sounds kinda perfect,” I assure him and caress his cheek when he flashes me a relieved smile.

 

I’m not really an affectionate person, so I’m a little surprised I stroked his face. I don’t have time to think about it while he’s here, so I shove it to the back of my mind. I’m sure there’ll be several more things I’ll need to consider after he’s left.

 

“Can I log into my account?” Peeta asks as he fiddles with my TV, and I nod.

 

“Sure. As long as you don’t mind that I’m totally going to use it from now until you change your password.”

 

He laughs and types in his information while we argue over toppings. Finally, we agree on ham and pineapple, which makes me really happy since he’s the only other person I know who actually likes fruit on pizza. I cross to the kitchen to grab some drinks and order the food, and Peeta has the movie pulled up on the screen by the time I return.

 

“ _The Proposal_? That’s what you want to watch?”

 

Peeta cringes, but he holds firm to his plan. “I like this movie,” he explains, his tone stubborn.

 

We laugh through the entire thing. Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds are the most unlikely couple, and Betty White as the grandmother makes me cackle so hard I snort. When the two actresses dance to Lil Jon’s _Get Low_ , Peeta and I shake until we can’t breathe. I even tear up a little bit during the confessional at the end and applaud the transition of a hard-nosed businesswoman to having a heart of gold. I barely know who I am anymore.

 

“You sure know how to pick ’em,” I tease as the credits roll, and he looks at me with such admiration I have to look away.

 

“I sure do,” he murmurs and cradles my jaw in his palm.

 

The last thing I see before our lips meet is his blue eyes, soft and full of longing.


	9. Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Candy

 

“What are we doing tonight, anyway?” I grumble at Gale. “I thought we were supposed to do things as a group.”

 

“We are, Catnip. Keep it in your pants. We haven’t done anything together since you and Peeta started sticking your tongues down each other’s throats. It’s kind of irritating.”

 

“You are exceptionally grumpy tonight,” I remark and study him carefully.

 

“Yeah, well, maybe I need to get laid too,” he growls, referencing what he said about Peeta when I first realized our friend was single again.

 

I stare at him for a few seconds and notice how agitated he is. I haven’t spent nearly as much time with my best friend over the past several days, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I haven’t really thought much about how he feels now that I’m dating another guy in our group. We’ve all been friends for so long, and my relationship with Peeta will surely change the dynamics of our get-togethers over time. Maybe I haven’t been very aware of how my new feelings will impact some of the people I care about the most.

 

“Hey,” I chide him gently. When he finally looks at me, I give him a wry smile. “I’m sorry I’ve been so wrapped up in my own life lately.”

 

Gale shrugs and sighs deeply. “I don’t blame you. I get it. I really do. Peeta’s been head over heels for you for ages, and you didn’t notice until just recently that he’s a member of the opposite sex. And…I don’t know…I’m really happy for you both, but maybe I’ve realized…”

 

His voice trails off, and I wait for him to continue for several seconds before I prompt him. “Maybe you’ve realized what?”

 

“Maybe I’ve realized that I mind.”

 

“You mind?” I ask, completely mystified by what he’s said.

 

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I didn’t realize until I saw you with him how much I’ve enjoyed the fact that we’ve always been closer than you and he have. And then I see the way you are with each other, and I wish I had that. And maybe I wish I had it with you.”

 

“Oh,” I whisper as my stomach clenches. “Oh, Gale. I—I had no idea.”

 

“Yeah, well…”

 

I grab his hand and squeeze it, and he intertwines our fingers. We sit silently for several minutes, each processing what’s just happened, and then he gives me a wry smile.

 

“The saying is ‘better late than never,’ but I’m not sure that’s the case this time.”

 

My heart hurts for him. “Maybe not.”

 

“Still best friends, though, right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“You better head home and get ready. I invited Annie, and we’re going to a club. Beetee ran across some flyer for a place that plays classic hip-hop, and we’re going tonight. No better way to hook up Finnick than getting him on the dance floor. Guy’s a god when he’s shaking his ass. Be back here at 10:00.”

 

“PM? Are you kidding me?”

 

Gale rolls his eyes at me. “No one goes out before ten on a weekend, Katniss. You’d think you weren’t cool or something.”

 

“I am so uncool,” I admit, and Gale chuckles.

 

“Yes, you are. Go home and get yourself all pretty. Might as well knock your man’s socks off.”

 

I don’t feel very pretty at 10:05 when I’m standing at Gale’s door wondering how the hell I got myself into this. It’s not like it’s something new. Our group’s gone out together a million times, sometimes to clubs, sometimes to something entirely different, and none of us have ever been self-conscious about anything.

 

Everything’s changed now that I’m attracted to Peeta. I’m hyper-aware of him when he’s in the room, and I remember what a good dancer he was in college. You’d never think blonde, blue-eyed, angelic looking Peeta could twerk, but the guy was a master when we were undergrads. Girls used to stare at his ass for ages. His rounded, pert, luscious— I have to shake myself out of stupor before I melt into the porch.

 

“Hell,” I mutter, “I am the un-coolest of all the uncool. Peeta’s going to drop it like it’s hot, and I’m just going to drop.”

 

To my surprise, Annie’s already there when I walk in, and it’s clear she and Finnick have connected. Gale and the rest of the guys give them some space, and Peeta arrives only a few seconds later.

 

“Sorry! Long day. Took forever to get home, and then I had to find the right kicks,” he offers in apology.

 

“First of all, don’t ever say ‘kicks’ again,” Finnick teases. “You are way too white for that, and please do not tell me you’re wearing your Ice Creams. Those are so…”

 

“3008?” Peeta quips, quoting one of his favorite songs from our senior year.

 

“More like 2000 and late,” Gale retorts, and then herds us all to the door. “Come on, ladies and gentlemen. It’s time to go shake our laffy taffy.”

 

We groan simultaneously, and I wonder how many more bad puns and song lyrics we’ll drop tonight.

 

I get my answer pretty quickly when Peeta sneaks up behind me and whispers in my ear, “Let me see your Tootsee Roll?”

 

I snort and grab his arm. We can’t keep our hands to ourselves in the car, and I send up a silent prayer of thanks that it’s dark and no one can see that Peeta’s hand is firmly situated under my skirt. His fingers stroke my skin, and I bite my lip to keep from whimpering aloud.

 

Things don’t get any better in the club. We bump and grind together, him expertly and me semi-decently only because it’s hard not to feel how to roll my hips when his cock is pressed tightly against my ass. His hands find purchase on my bare back, my hips, the sides of my breasts, and a variety of other places that make me want to throw him down and climb on top of him.

 

A few minutes past midnight, Peeta’s finally had enough. He motions to leave, and I nod quickly. We’re in the car in seconds, and I only feel slightly guilty that Gale and Haymitch will have to find their own way home.

 

“My place or yours?”

 

“Yours,” I answer breathlessly, and he speeds toward the Capital.

 

We’re on each other as soon as we’re inside his apartment, tearing at each other’s clothes and sliding our tongues together. He walks me backward down the hall, and we fall on the bed.

 

“Do you want me to slow down?” he asks, his voice hoarse, and I shake my head.

 

“Just fuck me,” I beg. “We can go slow next time.”

 

Peeta slides down my body and settles between my legs. He buries his face in my slit and groans. “God, you taste like candy.”

 

“Like a Tootsee Roll?” I wheeze as his mouth gets dirty.

 

I know what he’s doing. I know he’s eating me out to get me close to orgasm because he’s afraid he’ll come so much quicker than me. I shut off my brain and let myself enjoy what he’s doing. As I wind tighter, I remember a line from the last song we danced to before he pulled me from the club. When he slides a finger inside me and sucks on my clit, I mumble the words.

 

“Girls call me Jolly Rancher ’cause I stay so hard. You can suck me for a long time…oh my god,” I wail as I start to shake.

 

Peeta jerks free, and his mouth finds mine again. It’s filthy in the best way to taste myself on him, and I moan when I hear foil rip and then feel him enter me. I hold on to him tightly, and we buck and rut together. I tug at his curls, and he yanks my braid as we strain and stretch against each other.

 

“I’m gonna…” he pants. “Oh, fuck.”

 

I scream as heat flashes through me. It’s blinding, and my limbs melt with his as we spiral together. Sweaty, exhausted, and completely sated, he kisses my forehead as we drift off into a dreamless sleep.


	10. Stuffed Animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Stuffed Animal

 

 

I wake to Peeta’s mouth on nipple and his hands gripping my ass. I moan and stretch against him, and he flicks his tongue until I peak in his mouth.

 

“Peeta,” I whimper. “Peeta. That feels…so good.”

 

He’s a man on a mission, and I’m not about to stand in the way. When I’m mewling like a cat in heat, he flips me over, spreads my legs, and positions himself behind me. He places his mouth by my left ear and murmurs, “Arch your back.” I do, and he intertwines our fingers above my head as he enters me.

 

I’m incoherent as he pumps into me, filling and stretching me and babbling about how hot this is. I’m lost in a searing heat as our skin slides together. I scream and beg and weep into the pillow. My nerve endings spark under his touch, and he won’t let me get away from him. He chases me when I try to retreat into myself, and I’m almost scared at the intimacy between us despite barely being able to see him since he’s positioned behind me.

 

“Katniss… Christ, this is— You are— I can’t believe this is finally happening,” he grunts into the back of my neck as his hips rock faster.

 

I can’t do anything but wail a plea for him to keep going. He releases my right hand and tucks it underneath me. He fumbles for a bit, but he finds my clit after a few seconds. He rubs a few uneven circles before he finds a rhythm, and I jerk underneath him.

 

Arching my neck, I actually howl at the ceiling. In response, Peeta snaps his hips harder and presses his finger against me. I snap, my teeth gnashing, as my body tightens and wrings itself out on him. He pistons unevenly a few more times and releases with a tortured moan. He holds me down with his body until I stop writhing and finally calm.

 

Hours pass, decades maybe, as I try to come to grips with what’s happened. I can’t remember the last time someone drove me so far over the precipice. My chest is hollow, and I try to quell a momentary panic at how vulnerable he just made me.

 

“Fuck,” he drawls and finally rolls off me and onto his side. “How are we ever going to top that?”

 

I muster all the strength I can and roll over slowly to face him. When I catch his eyes, we both smile and break into soft laughter.

 

“I don’t think we will. We’ve reached the pinnacle of our sex life. Two orgasms, and we’re on the downhill slide forever,” I tease.

 

“Yeah, but what a way to go.”

 

He trails his fingers down the inside of my thighs, which are, honest to God, quivering. There’s moisture there, and he swirls his index finger in it for a few seconds before closing his eyes. It’s like he’s trying to memorize everything about this moment, freeze it in time and bring it back to life at a later date. My eyes drift closed, and I allow myself to float for a while. A few moments later, I hear the soft snuffle of Peeta’s snores, and I cuddle against his chest.

 

I haven’t really let myself think about anything other than the present with him. Long-term is terrifying, but it’s pretty obvious from what we just did that he’s all in. I haven’t had a serious relationship for a long time, so I have to push down some panic in order to relax enough nap alongside him.

 

We both drift in and out all morning until my phone finally wakes us. I stumble across the room and pull it from the pocket of my discarded skirt. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I realize it’s a text from Gale asking if I got home okay the night before. I answer quickly and turn to see Peeta eyeing me as I stand naked on the far side of the room. I flush deeply and scramble back into bed next to him so he’ll stop looking at my bare body with such naked lust. It’s unnerving.

 

He presses kisses along my collarbone before asking, “Who was that?”

 

“Gale,” I answer and run my fingers through Peeta’s hair. “He wanted to make sure I got home safely last night.”

 

“What did you tell him?” he breathes as he tugs gently on my earlobe with his teeth.

 

“That I’m with you,” I answer honestly and am rewarded when he drags his fingers down my stomach and between my legs.

 

“Glad you feel at home here,” he murmurs as his fingers stroke and dip inside me. My eyes drift shut, and I try to suppress a deep moan that can only be achieved from pure satisfaction.

 

I arch and grind against his hand for several minutes until I crest again. Peeta’s inordinately pleased with himself when I collapse into the mattress and warn him, “You are not allowed to touch me for at least thirty minutes.”

 

“Thirty minutes, huh? That’s not too long.”

 

“I’m serious, Peeta. I will disintegrate into a puddle of goo.”

 

He laughs and does the best thing he can to kill the mood. “So, there’s this girl at work,” he begins, and I have to fight to keep my claws from showing.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Her name’s Johanna. She’s a character, but I think she might be perfect for Gale.”

 

My hackles are up, and I’m not sure why. I just had the best sex of my life with a guy I’m quickly realizing is absolutely amazing. Why in the world wouldn’t I want my best friend to be happy?

 

“What would make her so perfect?” I ask and cringe at how harshly I spit the last word at him.

 

“This is so random. It really is.”

 

“Just say it,” I order in such a bitchy tone I’m surprised Peeta doesn’t call me on it.

 

“She’s a taxidermist. Totally into hunting and fishing and the outdoors. All the stuff Gale thrives on when he’s not pretending to be a total city boy. She’s bold and funny with a wicked mouth. She’ll bite your head off for looking at her cross-eyed, but her heart is huge.”

 

I glare at him for a few seconds before snapping, “Are you sure _you_ don’t want to date her?”

 

“Come on, Katniss,” Peeta returns with an eyeroll.

 

“So, you’re telling me you think a woman who stuffs animals for a living is Gale’s soulmate? How the hell do you even know her?”

 

“Watch it,” he teases. “You were making some animal noises when I was stuffing you earlier.”

 

“I don’t— You—,” I sputter but give up quickly. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing. I was squealing like a stuck pig.”

 

“Music to my ears,” he insists and pulls me toward him. “And to answer your question, I met her at a gallery across town. A show on animals. It’s a long story and not remotely interesting. You’re much more fascinating.”

 

“I am?”

 

“You are,” he insists. “And exciting. And stimulating.”

 

“Okay, Mr. Thesaurus.”

 

He pulls the covers over our heads, and I let him convince me he’s telling the truth for the rest of the afternoon and most of the night until we’re both unintelligible and unconscious.


	11. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for dropping the ball on posting this on AO3 as well as on tumblr. My sincere apologies for those who waited for its conclusion. If you ever want to look me up, I'm hutchhitched on tumblr.

 

 

“I should really go home,” I mumble against the warm skin of Peeta’s chest.

 

“Should is such an irritating word.”

 

“It really is,” I agree as I stretch against him.

 

We’ve spent almost the entire weekend together since we bailed on the club Friday evening, and I’m dreading returning to my own place and my real life. We both have work tomorrow morning, and I need to do laundry and get myself mentally prepared for a week in the office. I haven’t talked to Gale since I let him know I made it home. I haven’t heard from my mom for over a week, and I can’t remember the last time my sister and I had time to catch up with each other. It appears I’ve been hiding.

 

Peeta makes a grab for his phone when it vibrates on his bedside table. “It’s Gale,” he tells me. “He invited the gang over to watch the Olympics.”

 

“Tonight?” I groan internally. I have no interest in being around other people. I want to go home and do some thinking about how things have evolved since Peeta got me naked Friday night.

 

“Any time this week, I think. Or every day.”

 

“As much as I love you guys, sometimes it’s all a bit much.”

 

Peeta sits up, and I try not to lick my lips at the way the sheet pools across his lap. The cotton dips low on his right side, and I force my eyes away from the cut in his hip and up to the perplexed expression on his face.

 

“That’s not very nice,” he teases, but his eyes are a bit wounded. I can tell I’ve hit a nerve.

 

“You’ve always been the nice one; not me,” I remind him, but he doesn’t smile the way I thought he would.

 

“I can’t help it I’m as close to perfect as possible,” he says primly and laughs. Peeta’s one of the humblest people I’ve ever met, so I can tell it takes a lot for him to say that.

 

“Here’s the thing. Girls get a bad rap for being all drama, but sometimes you’re all just as bad,” I explain. “You don’t think you are, but there’s a lot of moody going on along with the testosterone.”

 

“Haymitch is definitely a drama queen. And Finnick.”

 

“And Gale.”

 

Peeta considers me for a few minutes as he toys with the ends of my dark hair. He starts to say something but snaps his mouth shut several times before he asks softly, “How’s Gale handling all this?”

 

“Fine,” I answer tersely. “Absolutely fine.”

 

Peeta watches me as I scramble from the bed and pull on a t-shirt and pair of sweats he let me borrow when we cooked breakfast earlier in the day. I’m grateful for his clothes because I have no desire to do a walk of shame on a Sunday afternoon in my club outfit.

 

“Fine, huh?”

 

“Sure. Why wouldn’t he be?” My hands shake slightly as I gather my own clothes and try to fold them into something other than a messy ball.

 

“I’m not sure. You tell me.”

 

Irritated, I turn to him and snap, “Quit dancing around the subject, Peeta. Tell me what you want to know.”

 

He frowns softly and then speaks cautiously. “I want to know why you’re so defensive about Gale. I just asked how he’s handling this—us—because I know how close you two have always been. To be honest, I’ve always been a little bit envious of his friendship with you. There were a few times I wondered if he was your boyfriend.”

 

I try to find the right words, but I’m not sure where to start. I know Peeta’s perceptive, but his observations hit a little too close to home considering what Gale just recently confessed about his feelings for me.

 

Peeta’s sympathetic look is too much, and I blurt, “Gale likes me. He told me on Friday.”

 

“I see,” he responds and stares at his hands for a few seconds. “Friday. That’s interesting timing.”

 

“Didn’t stop us from going at it like rabbits all weekend.”

 

He watches me tuck my stuff under my arm in preparation to leave and then speaks so quietly I almost miss it.

 

“Didn’t stop us from it or drove you to it?”

 

I don’t have an answer, which terrifies me. Trying to play it off as something too preposterous to consider, I shrug and lean over to give him a quick kiss. When he doesn’t try to stop me, I flee out the door, down the street, and back to my apartment where I lock myself away from the rest of the world and my own confusion.


	12. Prompt List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: It’s Valentine’s Day, a day Person A of your OTP despises for being so mushy and sappy, while Person B is a helpless romantic who cherishes the day. Only for Person B’s sake, Person A tries to make the day special. How the day goes is all up to you.

 

 

I’m inordinately grouchy by the time I arrive at the office Monday morning, and I ignore everyone as I stomp to my desk. Gale drops off a coffee as usual, but he doesn’t stick around to talk when he sees my stormy expression. He grunts a response to my surly attempt at appreciation, and I scowl at my screen while I wait for the computer to boot up. When it’s finally running, I open my email and find one from Peeta.

 

I scan it and suppress a groan. He’s asking about Valentine’s Day plans, and I have absolutely no idea how to answer him. And why didn’t he text me? I work for about an hour before I finally give up and seek out my best friend.

 

“What’s up, Catnip?” Gale asks, and I wait for him to turn his full attention to me. It only takes a few seconds before he glances over and sees the defeated slump of my shoulders and the furrow in my brow. “Uh oh. What happened?”

 

“I got cocky. That’s what,” I mutter, and Gale reclines with a smirk on his face.

 

“Please explain. And use a lot of detail.”

 

“This isn’t funny.”

 

“It isn’t? That’s strange because I’m very amused.”

 

I curse under my breath and start to leave, but he stops me. I gulp down a few deep breaths before I can speak, and, even then, my voice is pretty small.

 

“Peeta wants to spend Valentine’s Day together.”

 

“I don’t think that’s much of a surprise. You know how he eats up all that romantic crap,” Gale says with a shrug.

 

“How do I say no?”

 

My hands tremble when I look at them, and Gale chuckles. “Cold feet? Really? Didn’t you just spend the weekend getting your itch scratched by him? Several times?”

 

“Yes,” I whisper.

 

“So, you were just using him for sex,” he teases, and I flip him the bird. “Seriously, what’s this about?”

 

“It’s all happening too fast,” I sputter.  “I don’t even know what’s going on between us besides two solid days of amazing sex and enjoying hanging out together, and suddenly Valentine’s Day rears its ugly head and I’m supposed to know what I want.”

 

Gale makes a face and drawls, “Other than giving me way too much information about your sex life…eww, by the way…this is pretty normal for you, you realize. You tend to really freak out when you like a guy. It’s how I knew we wouldn’t ever work. You’ve always been remarkably calm about our relationship.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I ask softly and hope he doesn’t call me on the quiver in my voice.

 

“Would it have made any difference?”

 

The question hangs between us in the empty air, and I consider it for a while. He doesn’t drop his gaze, and we stare, sizing each other up. Two decades of friendship, countless memories, fun, pain and endless support are at stake, and it terrifies me.

 

“Are you really okay with me being with Peeta?”

 

He sighs deeply, and I resist the urge to grab his hand. “You deserve to be happy, Catnip. So does Peeta. He’s a great guy, one of my best friends, and he’s cared about you for as long as I’ve known him. Do I wish you were me instead of him? Of course, but that’s not the way it is.”

 

“I’m worried.”

 

“You’re not going to lose me. My wounded male pride will recover.”

 

“What if I lose myself? It’s already happened a little bit.”

 

“I’ll kiss your ass.”

 

I can’t help but laugh, and I know he means it. Gale’s as pragmatic as they come, and he won’t let me forget who I am. If I’m being fair about it, Peeta won’t either. He’s always been disgustingly supportive of the women he’s dated and appreciated their independence.

 

“Dammit. I’m going to have to say yes to romance on Valentine’s Day.”

 

“Disgusting. That’s the absolute worst.”

 

“I know, right?”

 

We smile at each other for a few seconds, and I’m strangely calmed by the familiarity of his face. I realize then that dating Peeta doesn’t mean losing my best friend. Instead, I’ll probably gain a second one.

 

“Get back to work, Everdeen. Feel free to come over tonight if you want to hang.”

 

“Thanks, Gale,” I mumble and head back to my desk.

 

I send Peeta a return email and tell him we should talk about it tonight when we meet at Gale’s place. He returns his agreement quickly, and I spend the rest of my day losing myself in something other than my suddenly active love life. I much prefer it.


	13. Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Chocolate

 

My stomach rolls as I exit the elevator and pull my contacts up on my phone. I rarely have a vocal conversation—it’s almost always texting or messaging through one of my social media accounts—but I’ve been avoiding Peeta since I left his place on Sunday, except for accepting his invitation for a date the next day via email. I should probably talk to him if I don’t want things to be over between us before they’ve begun.

 

Thankfully, he answers on the second ring. “Katniss. Hey.”

 

I swallow hard and force myself to speak through my nervousness. “Hi. How—um…hi.”

 

“How are you?”

 

“Fine!” I sputter. “Totally fine. Fine. How are you? Fine?”

 

Peeta chuckles softly and replies, “Relax, Katniss. Yes, I’m fine. I’ve missed you the past few days.”

 

“Do you want to drink hot?” I ask and groan. “I mean, do you want to grab… Should we get togeth— Oh hell.”

 

I can hear him cough to cover his laugh, and I stop on the sidewalk and slump against a building. I’m beyond mortified. Nothing’s coming out right, and I sound like I have a head injury.

 

“Let me see if I can break this down,” he teases. “I would like to drink. You are hot. I’d like to grab you in a number of places, and yes, I’d like to do things together with you. Sexual things, non-sexual things, drinking things, eating things, hot things, cold things, room temperature things. Which brings me to…what are you asking?”

 

“I thought maybe we could grab a coffee, but I don’t like coffee and you only drink tea. So, I thought maybe hot chocolate?” I hold my breath, but he answers almost instantly.

 

“Of course. Where are you thinking?”

 

“Oh, uh… What about that place on Seam Street? District 13, I think, is the name. We went there a few months ago with the rest of the guys.”

 

“I remember. I’ll see you there. Fifteen minutes?” he asks, and I hear his car start in the background.

 

“Sure. See you soon. And Peeta?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’ve missed you too,” I mumble.

 

I can hear the smile in his voice when he replies, “Glad to hear it.”

 

Heaving a sigh of relief, I tuck my phone in my pocket and walk briskly toward our meeting place. I want to clear things up with him before our Valentine’s Day date tomorrow, and I’m afraid I’ll forget everything I want to say to him and rip his clothes off if I go to his place or invite him over to mine.

 

He’s waiting for me when I walk in, and he rises to greet me. I lift my face to his, and he drops a gentle kiss on my lips. He tastes like hot chocolate, and my heart flutters a little when I see a cup topped with a healthy dose of whipped cream and a croissant waiting for me.

 

“That’s my absolute favorite,” I gush and drop into my seat.

 

“I know. You’re the one who hasn’t been paying attention.”

 

I take a few moments to collect myself, and Peeta watches me calmly. He’s not trying to make me feel guilty or uncomfortable. It’s the kindness in his eyes that convinces me he already understands. The hint of hunger that lurks in his blue depths doesn’t hurt either.

 

“I just wanted to clear some things up before tomorrow,” I start and take a sip of my drink. “Lord, this is good.”

 

“What kind of things?”

 

I decide to stop stalling and spill it.

 

“I ran out on you on Sunday. I needed some time to think.”

 

“Well, I have no idea why,” he jokes. “We’d just spent 40 hours solid together and done a whole lot of… _interesting_ things together. Our entire friendship changed practically overnight, and you needed time to think? I am shocked.”

 

“You don’t have to be so nice.”

 

“You don’t have to be so scared,” he returns. “I’m not worried, Katniss. You were distant for a day or so. It’s not the end of the world.”

 

“But—”

 

“Are you going to stop seeing me?”

 

“No! No, of course not.”

 

“Then you don’t have to apologize. Even if you were, you don’t have to apologize. We’re fine. I’m looking forward to spending tomorrow with you, but I’m equally as happy sitting here right now.”

 

I stare at him for a few seconds and then quip, “You have got to be the most understanding and disgustingly calm person I know.”

 

He takes a drink of his cocoa and sets it down before saying, “I must be the worst.”

 

“You have flaws, right?” I question him, only half-joking.

 

“I clip my toenails in the living room and sometimes don’t sweep up for days.”

 

I make a face and mutter, “Gross.”

 

“I’m also the world’s worst baby when I’m sick.”

 

“Don’t expect me to take care of you when that happens,” I inform him, but we both remember when I took him a cup of soup last year when he wasn’t feeling well. Apparently, I have been keeping track of him.

 

“Agreed. That would be presumptuous of me.”

 

We grin at each other for a few moments, and then he reaches across the table to squeeze my hand.

 

“We’re going to be fine,” I say, trying to convince myself.

 

He nods and rubs my palm with his thumb. “Yes, we are. I need to go. Late meeting at work, but I’ll see you tomorrow evening, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

I watch him leave, the sun glinting off his golden waves. As he reaches the door, he turns and winks in a way that sends a shockwave to my gut. Suddenly, I can’t wait to get him alone again.


	14. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Valentine's Day

 

 

“That was absolutely delicious,” I huff and wipe the corners of my mouth with my napkin.

 

Peeta surprised me with a private lesson from a French chef at his apartment, and we’re enjoying the fruits of our labor after we laughed and joked and fumbled our way through cooking a bunch of food I can barely pronounce and definitely can’t spell. Likely he was lying, but the chef declared us masters and left us alone shortly after we finished preparing the food.

 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he teases as he eyes my empty plate. I practically licked it clean, and I have zero regrets.

 

“Admit it. Having dinner in your apartment was one way to get me into bed sooner rather than later.”

 

He has the decency to look chagrined but grins lasciviously at me. “The thought did cross my mind.”

 

“As long as you don’t mind my garlic breath…”

 

He gives me a look intended to let me know how ridiculous my caveat is, and I throw my napkin on the table and grab his hand. “Let’s go.”

 

Peeta follows me into his bedroom and grabs me before I can turn. He lifts my hair and nibbles on my neck while I attempt to shimmy out of my clothes. His hands mold to my body as he rubs and caresses every inch of me he can reach.

 

“Let me make you happy,” he murmurs against my skin and trails his right hand down my torso to the juncture between my legs. He guides me to open for him with gentle strokes and then dips his fingers into the growing wetness there.

 

“Yes,” I hiss as he presses my clit and raises goosebumps when he blows on my neck. He takes his time, pressing and rubbing as he seduces me. The buttons on his shirt dig into my back as his hips roll against mine.

 

I can’t remember the last time foreplay was so enjoyable, except maybe the first time we were together. He’s not in a hurry at all, simply happy to draw out my whimpers and moans as my legs shake. His left hand palms my breast, and I arch back against him as he strokes me.

 

“This is so fucking hot,” I whimper. He rewards me by sliding his middle finger inside me. I jerk at the intrusion and hiss, “I want you.”

 

“You’ve got me. Don’t rush. Enjoy it.”

 

I do. For a long time. And when I don’t think I can take anymore, he keeps going until I tense and snap. He holds me tightly against him when I sag and then lays me down on his bed. He strips, kneels, and shushes me when I try to get him to join me.

 

When his tongue touches me, I yowl so loudly I sound like a feral cat. It must inspire him because he spreads me open and feasts on me as I thrash and plead with him to end the most exquisite torture I’ve ever experienced. He doesn’t listen, and I thank him by voicing my resounding approval.

 

My climax comes in a rolling wave that sweeps through me from the top of my head down to my toes. I arch off the bed and twist around him while he sucks my clit until I’m still. I reach for him, but he’s already there, hard and poised at my entrance.

 

“Take me with you,” he begs as he enters me. I lift my arms to clasp him and hold tightly as he thrusts and jerks against me. I’m beyond sensitive, and I can feel our connection in every nerve ending.

 

He throws his head back, his eyes closed with a slightly pained expression on his face. I can identify because what we do together feels so good it borders on torturous decadence. When he lifts one of my legs to rest on his shoulder and tilts his hips so he can go deeper, my eyes roll back in my head.

 

I don’t know if it’s seconds or hours before he breaks. I feel so good I’m almost numb when he spills into the condom and collapses next to me. We kiss languidly for several minutes, my scent lingering in my nostrils as our tongues rub together.

 

When we finally run out of breath, he rubs his hand down my side and leaves me alone for a few moments. He returns quickly with a small wrapped box in his hands.

 

“It’s not much, but I wanted to get you something.”

 

I take it with trembling hands, almost afraid to see what’s inside. Releasing a relieved laugh, I grin at him when I see it’s a list of hip-hop songs we danced to the previous Friday.

 

“I made you a playlist, so we’ll upload it to your phone sometime when we have our clothes on.”

 

“Sounds overrated.”

 

“Tell me about it,” he laughs and climbs into bed beside me. He gathers me close and nudges my head back so he can kiss me, and we neck shamelessly for a while longer.

 

“Thanks for tonight,” I breathe against his cheek. “I was so nervous.”

 

“Why’s that?” he asks as he cuddles me.

 

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s Valentine’s Day, and there’s all the pressure that comes with that.”

 

“Such as?”

 

I swat at the top of his head when he dips it to lightly bite my nipple. “Stop it. I can’t think when you do stuff like that.”

 

“You figured out my strategy.”

 

“Funny,” I retort and kiss his forehead.

 

“You said something about pressure,” he reminds me and presses me back against the pillow.

 

“Relationship pressure. Figuring out what to call you. The dreaded three-word phrase and someone saying it too early and scaring the other person. You know, the usual stuff.”

 

“Well, I do love you. You know that. I love the rest of the guys too, although you might hold a special place in my heart since you’re the only one I want to see naked. And I call you Katniss.”

 

“Don’t make fun of me.”

 

“Sweetheart, I’m not,” he assures me. “We don’t have to have all the answers yet. Our story’s not over just because it’s Valentine’s Day, and I made you purr like a kitten. I don’t even know how many dates we’ve actually had at this point. Things will happen when they happen.”

 

“But—”

 

“No butts. I mean, unless you just want to try it,” he quips.

 

“Peeta Mellark!”

 

“I’m kidding! About that, anyway. What I’m not kidding about is the pressure. I told you yesterday, I’m not worried about this. I’ve wanted you for so long that I’m not about to screw it up by forcing you to know things no one in their right mind could tell yet.” He looks at me, his eyes serious. “It’s been ten days since I showed up on your doorstep with orchids. I don’t expect to propose any time soon.”

 

“Oh, hell…”

 

“If ever,” he finishes with a wink.

 

“Are you saying I’m un-marry-able? Is that a word?”

 

“Does it matter?” he asks and pulls the sheet over our heads.

 

When his mouth finds mine, I realize it doesn’t. Our tale is short but sweet so far. We don’t have to know the ending yet. We have many more pages to write.


End file.
